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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26519974">The First Is the Worst</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammys_lover/pseuds/sammys_lover'>sammys_lover</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>October Writing Challenge '20 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gravity Falls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BUT HUSBAND IN EVERY OTHER WAY, Blood, Blood and Injury, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Fluff, Full Moon, Halloween, Holding Hands, Making Out, Not legally bc legally he's dead, October First, October Prompt Challenge, Pet Names, Protectiveness, STAN IS UR BIG STRONG HUSBAND, Werewolves, october writing challenge, taking care of wounds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:15:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,908</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26519974</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammys_lover/pseuds/sammys_lover</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The first of October is normally a day of wonderful fortune -- the shack is busy, the Stans are back for the month, and the weather is wonderful.</p><p>The first of this particular October, however, matches up with the rest of the year.</p><p>It is one of many in the series of unfortunate events to follow.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Stan Pines/Reader, Stanley Pines/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>October Writing Challenge '20 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949584</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The First Is the Worst</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You lock the main door of the gift shop, turning to smile at Stan as he finished up counting the cash made – October was GREAT for business, so you and Stan really do it up. Even more than you do for Summerween. </p><p>“You sure know how to work ‘em, doll.” </p><p>You lean over the counter, fiddling with the front of his suit as you look up at him through your lashes. </p><p>“I learned from the best.” </p><p>He laughs, a blush rising in his face when you wink at him, letting you kiss his cheek before letting him go. </p><p>“And now that we’re alone,” You hop up on the counter as he makes his way to the other side, letting him stand between your legs, wrapping your arms around him. “How about I show you a couple more’a my tricks?” </p><p>He raises a brow, one hand going to squeeze your thigh as he hooked your leg around his waist. </p><p>“All’a your tricks are more like treats, sweetheart.” </p><p>“Halloween-themed flirting? That’s cheesy, even for you, Stan.” </p><p>You’re smiling as you join in a kiss, paying no mind to the rest of the world as you pull him close, making out like a couple of teenagers. </p><p>He moves to gently kiss at your neck, each butterfly kiss sending tiny shivers down your spine. </p><p>Your hands are pressed against his chest, and you’re just about to begin to grind your hips against him when there’s some kind of metallic rattle coming from...somewhere? </p><p>Stan raises his head to look towards the sound – it's coming from outside? Something’s rummaging through the garbage. </p><p>He groans, giving you one last small kiss before untangling himself from you (and you from him) ((much to both of your dismay)) taking a few steps towards the gift shop’s door. </p><p>“It’s probably those darn beautiful men again... always eatin’ outta my trash.” </p><p>You wave a hand at him, hopping off the counter to follow him. </p><p>“Five times is hardly ‘always,’ Mr. Mystery.” </p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” He grabs a broom on his way out, and you follow close behind. </p><p>It’s... almost disturbingly silent outside – the sky is a dusty pink and orange, the sun nearly completely set, the full moon high above the treetops. You shiver in the chilly fall air, trying to stick close to Stan. You know he can take whatever’s making all that noise, but you’re a firm believer in the buddy system. And you can never be too cautious in a town like this. </p><p>Something’s still rattling around, and whatever it is knocks over a can, and it rolls into view from around the corner. </p><p>“Hey!” Stan calls out, making the thing go completely quiet. You both round the corner. “Get outta h-” </p><p>“AAAH-!” </p><p>You scream as the thing lunges at you – it's a huge, HUGE humanoid wolf creature. Its fur is silver and matted, its eyes a vicious yellow, standing on its hind legs like some sort of demonic entity. You brace yourself for impact, ready yourself for the pain – when Stan jumps in front of you instead, raising his left arm defensively. The creature sinks its teeth into his arm. </p><p>He yells for you to get inside, but instead you pick up the broom he’d dropped, raising your weapon to strike as Stan straight-up punched it in the face when it releases his arm and goes for his throat. </p><p>The wolf thing is sent to the ground, a cloud of dirt billowing up around it. </p><p>Stan pants as he moves to stand in front of you, but you don’t let him – You hold your broom up, ready to strike the thing as it growls at you. You’re unsure of what to do for a moment – it's not close enough to hit, so you just... growl back. Louder. </p><p>The wolf creature’s ears flatten, and it looks at you, then at Stan, and then makes a wise choice. It backs away, disappearing into the tall trees. </p><p>You turn back to Stan and feel your blood run cold at the sight of his suit’s arm, darkened with blood, dripping onto the ground. </p><p>“Oh my god,” you drop your broom and quickly usher him back into the house. “Oh my g- here, let me see.” you gently take his arm, but the darkened, torn fabric is in your way. You grimace. “We need to get you outta those clothes.” </p><p>“We’re still on for that, huh?” </p><p>Despite the gravity of the situation, you huff a laugh as you work on the buttons of his suit, the both of you then heading upstairs. </p><p>“Stan, you’ve got to go see a doctor for this thing.” </p><p>“Y/n, honey, baby, love of my life, I can’t commit insurance fraud again. Not with something as- as tiny as a wolf bite!” </p><p>“Lemme guess, you’re saving the fraud for the next time you get stabbed?” </p><p>You have him sit down on his bed, taking his suit jacket and setting it aside – the blood will come out later. </p><p>“How’d ya know?” </p><p>You don’t know how he has it in him to joke around right now. That thing really did a number on him. Oh, it’s... not good. It could be worse, but it’s still not good. The bite is HUGE, one of the marks from the fangs reaching about... ooh, I dunno, the size of your THUMB in diameter. Your brows knit as you clean up the wound. </p><p>You do your best and work in silence, careful not to hurt him. You know he’s too stubborn to go and see a doctor any time soon, so it looks like all you can do is keep the wound clean. </p><p>“...This is going to sound so stupid and cliché, but thank you for saving me.” </p><p>He shoots you a charming smile and a shrug. </p><p>“Ah, no need to thank me, doll.” </p><p>“No need to thank you? You punched a wolf.” You take his hand that he’d punched the damned thing with... oh, his knuckles are sure to be bruised in the morning. You take a little rag and clean up a couple tiny cuts he had there before planting a kiss to his hand. </p><p>“My hero.” </p><p>He blushes, stuttering out half-baked sentences as you kiss his knuckles again, laughing a little at his flustered state. </p><p>“Now,” you continue, climbing into bed next to him. “Just because I’m not dragging you to a hospital right this moment doesn’t mean I'm forgetting about it. I’m asking your brother to take a look at it as soon as he gets back.” </p><p>He groans, wrapping his uninjured arm around you as he relaxed on the bed. </p><p>“You worry too much, toots.” </p><p>“Somebody has to worry about you.” You smile smugly up at him, and he can manage only a grumble. Hah, you love it when he’s left without a comeback. </p><p>And just as you’re about to really get comfortable, you hear the front door open and then shut again, followed by a loud crash and a strangled, cut off shout, followed by- </p><p>“STANLEY!” </p><p>Oh. Well, Ford’s home! You get out of bed to go and figure out what happened, and spot Ford trying to pick up pieces of paper that had been scattered about. Well, uh... looks like he tripped on the broom you’d dropped after you realized how badly Stan was hurt. </p><p>You hurry down the stairs, apologizing, explaining that it was you who left the broom there, and- oh, well, Ford’s face turns pink as embarrassment overtakes him. He apologizes for shouting. </p><p>You hand him his papers when you’re both standing again, and you tell him not to worry about it, and then that you need his help. </p><p>“See uh, Stan and I thought there was a beautiful man eating out of the garbage again-” </p><p>“Beautiful man??” </p><p>“-Uh-huh – and when we went out to investigate, it turned out to be a huge WOLF! It lunged at me, but Stan took the hit for me, and... well, his arm’s got a nasty bite. Could you make sure he’s okay? He’s refusing to see a doctor.” </p><p>“He can’t see a doctor – legally, he’s dead.” </p><p>“Don’t remind me...” </p><p>Thankfully he’d given his silent agreement to help when he started up the stairs, making his way to Stan’s room. </p><p>*** </p><p>He doesn’t take long, and he quickly determines that Stan will be fine – no rabies or anything like that – but he would like to know what KIND of wolf bit him, if it has any supernatural properties, etc. And since you didn’t have any pictures, you did your best to supply him with a drawing of the wolf-being. </p><p>You hold up a little doodle of a wolf- creature.  </p><p>To which he sighed, and came up with a nice cleaner sketch, asking if this was what you saw. </p><p>And he proceeds to hold up a BETTER doodle of wolf- creature. Ouch. Your artistic pride.  </p><p>You confirm it, and his brows knit. </p><p>“This...may be worse than I thought. What attacked you, Stanley, was a... well, it was a subspecies of werewolf.” </p><p>“A wh- a sub-species of werewolf? What does that even mean??” </p><p>“Well, there’s the usual variety and then there are the numerous sub-species – Some change only your physical appearance while others change your brain chemistry entirely. Others are a horrifyingly unpredictable mix of both.” </p><p>You and Stan sit in stunned silence. </p><p>“So... what do we do?” You take Stan’s hand as you ask, and he squeezes yours. You squeeze back. </p><p>“Well,” Ford stands, using a plastic bag to gather up the bloodied rags you’d used to clean up Stan’s arm. “I can compare whatever samples I have here to what I have on-file in the lab.” </p><p>“Thanks, sixer.” </p><p>“Yes, well... don’t go fighting any other supernatural creatures while I’m gone.” </p><p>“No promises.” </p><p>With a quiet laugh and an exhausted shake of his head, Ford leaves the room. </p><p>Stan flops back on the bed with a quiet groan. </p><p>“Yeesh, talk about some bad luck.” </p><p>You lay back next to him, the both of you staring at the ceiling. </p><p>“You should have let it bite me instead, I woulda been fine.” </p><p>“Hah! The day I let somethin’ happen to you is the day I bite the dust.” </p><p>You curl up next to him as he gets comfortable, your hand on his chest, his uninjured arm around your waist as he pulls you close. </p><p>You sigh, your head coming to rest in the crook of his head and his shoulder. You're quiet for a long moment as you take it all in, worry swirling in your head. After another minute, you break the silence. </p><p>“It’s always something with this town, isn’t it?” </p><p>He laughs quietly, closing his eyes. </p><p>“At least it ain’t dull.” </p><p>You close your eyes too, trying not to pay much mind to the moonbeams that were just barely shining through the gap between the closed curtains. When was the next full moon, anyway? Isn’t it... oh, no. The next one is on Halloween – a blue moon. Who knows what that might do to him...? </p><p>You try not to worry too much about it for now, though. It was a month away. You have time to figure things out. Besides, Stan’s strong, Ford will definitely figure something out, and you’re not going anywhere. </p><p>You eventually wiggle your way to lay your head on his chest, listening to his heart beating, falling asleep like that, warm and safe in his arms. And he sleeps contently in yours. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fic will connect to another, coming up later this month :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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